Saturday, September 27, 2014

Everything Else

Since my daughter turned 6 she has a new anthem. It goes something like this, "Mommy, when I get older will you help me/ teach me/ show me...", and then lists whatever she would like to know how to do. At the top of her list to date is learning how to make sandwiches, buying an Alaskan husky, finding a husband who loves Jesus, helping her build a house in my back yard, and teaching her to be a good mom.

Unconsciously, I always knew she was watching me. The way I always watched my mom. I could of sat in the bathroom for hours watching my mom put on her makeup, pick out an outfit, listening to her phone calls, or read her books. Mostly, I watched how she handled the situations that came with everyday life.

Now, it's my turn. I could say Kendall's requests are small, but really they aren't. Okay, the sandwich and the dog are small. The other ones are life changing. The only way to teach her those are with my life.

Sometimes, it's not pretty. The moments when your anger flares, you have word vomit, or patience is at a minimum. You start the day feeling like June Cleaver and in a few short seconds you have more in common with Cruella Deville. So, you're not skinning puppies but it certainly feels like it. You're probably nodding your head at this point. You know those moments. I feel like anybody can teach on the mountain top. When it's easy, care free, and somewhere Julie Andrews is singing. The days when everyone has model behavior, good manners, and the house smells like freshly baked treats. What about the valleys? The temper tantrums, personality clashes, stubbornness, and half a box of Fruit Loops is in the dog bowl. The days where your tempted to think they have more of your husband's personality and habits than your own. It's in my lowest parenting moments that I can show Kendall the most.

Where there's wrong, I can ask for forgiveness.

Where there's hurt, I can show kindness.

Where there's close-mindedness, I can give perspective.

When there's anger, I can show humility.

When there's pride, I can be humble.

Not to say I haven't or won't mess up. I pray that she remembers what I do after that, because I can't uphold an image of perfection. The cracks will show through eventually. Nor do I try. There was only one person who was perfect, and He died on a cross for the whole world.

I'm going to mess up, but in everything I do I can always show her Jesus. My part is to show her how to respond to real life situations from Jesus's perspective. Even if I'm using my worst examples. If I could attain perfection she may never realize her need for Jesus.

She doesn't need to see a facade. She needs me to be real, and in love with Jesus, her daddy, and others. In that order. 

I'll do my best. 

For everything else there's Jesus.

In His Love,


  1. This was absolutely beautiful! Thank hou for sharing a piece of your heart.

  2. PTL! Thank you for your sweet comment Carrie!